The novel represents the failure of an obsessive national identity project.
The novel represents first and foremost an attentive, sympathetic and fair-handed reading of the Brontë lives.
(Plath Snr contended that the descriptions of real people in the novel represented "the basest ingratitude" towards the people caricatured in the book, herself included).
The novel represents one of the author's first goes at fiction, and it clunks and sputters with all the awkwardness you would expect from an apprentice work.
The novel represents a departure from Mr. Crichton's longtime fictional preoccupation with the moral and social ramifications of science and technology.
Indeed, fly-fishing and its accessories — reels, rods, lures — form the leitmotif of the novel, representing Ogden's main, or only, passion.
It would be inaccurate to say that the novel represents yet another breathless exposé of religious hypocrisy, or a further excavation of the dark secrets that supposedly lurk beneath the placid surface of small-town life.
Twitter and Facebook were calling out to me, but the novel represented another world, offering me the chance to be Cassandra Mortmain in a drafty castle with her strange family.
In a way, the novel represents a long, slow fall from the assumptions that beauty of the kind represented by Bruno can define you, or secure your place in the world and yet, for Bruno, it is replaced by absolutely nothing.
The novel represents a period of transition from traditional social values and prescientific medical theory towards modernization of society associated with the growing domination of medical science, which continued into the 20th century.
